An Unwilling Baroness (7 page)

"She’s right," Dorothea finally said, her
voice severing the fevered cord that bound them together. "Sir, you
are not married. You ought not speak to the lady in such a familiar
manner."

Fredrick chuckled. "I beg your pardon, Lady
Pembridge. And Lady Chloe, I offer you my humblest apologies and if
I may say, the sooner we rectify the marriage situation, the better
for me."

"I rather think her rectifying the situation
would be better for all concerned," Dorothea inserted.

"Yes, it would be grand for you and Father,
wouldn't it?" Chloe asked, staring into Dorothea's eyes, not liking
the simmering ire she saw there. "And speaking of Father, where is
he?"

The crone cocked a brow. "Seeing to that
horse, remember?"

Chloe stifled a bitter laugh. He had sold
Sebastian, of course she wasn't supposed to know that. No doubt the
coward didn't wish to watch while his daughter sold her soul to the
devil to save him.

She looked back to Fredrick and found the
devil’s appreciative gaze unnerving. He appeared a wolf ready to
devour her. A chill coated her skin, if only Jude would look at her
that way. He had once and she'd pushed him away. Damn it, why
hadn't she clung to him?

The carriage jerked to a halt and Chloe
waited anxiously for the door to open. She needed to get out. She
needed to breathe fresh air and walk away the nerves that had her
body trembling. Judging by the way Fredrick looked upon her, he
didn't simply want a marriage of convenience. He wanted all she
had. That was something she wasn't ready for…was she?

She set her hand to her stomach, pressing
down the obnoxious butterflies that fought for space. Was it
possible that Fredrick was too much man for her to handle?

The door sprang open and like a rabbit from
the thicket, she jumped from the carriage, nearly falling into
Jude. He opened his arms and caught her, his embrace so welcoming,
so safe, she longed to stay there.

"Chloe? Are you ill?" he asked, and for a
moment she thought she saw the old Jude gazing down at her. But was
the concern honest and true or just another ploy to draw her in so
he could smack her down? She pushed away, her body immediately
missing the contact.

"Yes. I'm well. It's rather close quarters
in the carriage, that’s all. You remember how the jostling makes me
feel poorly sometimes." She stared up into his amber eyes,
wondering if they had always been so brilliantly bright and
inquisitive. "Or have you forgotten?"

The minutest of smiles touched his lips.
"There's little about you that I have forgotten," he said in a
husky whisper.

Despite the sweetness of his words, and as
tempted as she was to believe them, she wouldn't be fooled again.
Sorrow at the loss of her beloved friend twisted her heart until it
ached. "And little left that you admire."

She gave him no opportunity to reply and
lifting her deep orange skirt, she turned toward the narrow path.
Brambles and thorny weeds blocked her way and yet she picked
through them until she reached the clearing where Maggie furiously
worked to set up the small feast.

"You look a little peaked," Maggie said
breathlessly as she smoothed a blanket upon the ground.

"I'm all right," Chloe grumbled, trying to
knock loose bits of debris from the hem of her skirt. "I must look
a fright, for everyone keeps asking me if I'm ill. But I’m not
unwell, unless you consider heartsick as an illness."

"I'm sorry," Maggie said and sticking out
her lower lip, blew a curl from her forehead. "I don't know what to
say ta help ya. Ya do know though, that I think you're lovely."

"I thank you for that," Chloe replied and
knelt down to help secure the blanket to the moist grass. "Where's
your sister? I fully expected to see May here."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "May was needed at
the house. For the life of me I don't know why. Most everyone is
here and I could've used the help."

"That is curious," Chloe admitted. "Do you
suppose that Lady Pembridge would frown on my helping you with the
preparations?"

Maggie's eyes grew wide. "Your dear mum, God
rest her soul, wouldn't a minded. But that harpy of a mistress you
got now, well, she'd give me a good lashin' if ya did!"

Chloe sighed and straightened, more
resentful than ever. Why couldn't she help her friend? Dash it all,
why couldn't she have tea with her friend? She couldn't even call
the woman a friend to anyone for fear of repercussions, not only to
herself but to dear Maggie as well. Every aspect of her life ended
with her running into a cage door. She was nothing but a captured
bird, first her father's pet and soon to be Fredrick's. Her stomach
roiled and she longed to run until her lungs burned and her legs
gave out.

"You ought ta go and enjoy the day," Maggie
said, her sweet voice pulling her from the miserable hole in which
she'd tumbled. "The good Lord has blessed us with clear skies and a
cool breeze."

Chloe raised her chin and looked up. The sky
was indeed the most glorious shade of blue. Gentle winds kissed her
cheek and pulled at the ribbons of her bonnet. Trees all around the
clearing teemed with the chatter of happy birds…birds free to live
and die the way God intended. Melancholy swept away the moment of
peace and she bit back her sorrow. She may be a caged bird, but she
was a proud one, and despite what she knew she had to do, she'd try
to make the best of it, just as her mother always had.

"You there, girl!" Dorothea called and
Maggie groaned.

"The lady has known me nigh ta five years
and she still calls me girl."

"Take heart, Maggie, she only knows my name
because it suits her purposes. You couldn't very well sell a brood
mare by calling her horse, now could you?"

Chloe slid her gaze up the small incline to
see her stepmother bustling toward them. She was on a mission to be
sure. "I’m off for a walk, then."

"If I could, I'd join ya," Maggie said, her
smile a knowing one and dipping her knee she called to Dorothea.
"I'm coming, my lady. I live to serve." To everyone else the
comment sounded like the words of a dutiful servant. But Chloe knew
better and she grinned. Maggie, her Maggie, would come with her
when she left. That would be part of the arrangement.

Putting distance between herself and her
fellow picnickers, Chloe allowed the invisible noose that
threatened to steal her breath to loosen. What harm could there be
in relaxing, just a little?

Soft grass moistened her boots as she
entered the forest. The pungent scent of loam touched her senses
and memories of long walks with Mother saturated her mind.

How often they traversed the land, carrying
paper, pen and ink with them to sketch anything and everything that
caught their attention. Mother knew so much about birds and
butterflies, plants and trees. A smile touched her lips. Mother,
even though she was gone, her influences still touched her, still
warmed her, and still filled her with hope.

"I’d like to accompany you." It was
Fredrick's voice and her heart sank, for she wanted only to be
alone to reminisce. Still, duty and manners had her turning to face
him.

He moved stealthily toward her, his coat
tails nearly flying out behind him. Reaching her, he removed his
hat and bowed. She in turn, dipped her knee and when he offered his
arm, she hesitantly slid her hand around his elbow.

"Why did you leave like that?" he asked as
they followed the wide path into the woods. "Are you upset?"

How should she answer him? Truth, she
decided was best. "A little," she admitted and glancing up, she
noted his frown.

His gaze slid across her face, concern
flickering in his eyes. "With me? I know I am too forward at times,
but I find that to be the case only with you. But you're so lovely
and so sweet. I could smell your perfume, see the sorrow in your
eyes and I wanted nothing but to make you smile."

His confession touched her, but it was his
obvious admiration that warmed her soul. It felt strange and
glorious to be adored by him. "And you did. You made me blush."

"I know, and may I add, you're quite
charming when you turn pink."

"You're doing it again," she scolded, the
heat inching uncomfortably into her cheeks.

"Yes, I am." He stopped walking and held
tight to her hand. "I would adore making you blush for the rest of
my life." He shifted, maneuvering his body until he blocked her
way. "I know it's rather soon for you to say yes to my proposal.
I’m usually a thinking man. But I find I cannot think of anything
but you."

His confession had her nerves tingling. It
was too fast, but she realized it was going to happen sooner or
later. Glancing over his shoulder, she could just see Jude at the
mouth of the path. The man she loved only feet away, the glorious
sunlight shimmering in his hair. The image of him shattered
forever, for, a beautiful blonde creature clung to his arm. The
fiancée had arrived and her heart broke. Shocked, she leaned into
Fredrick to keep from stumbling backward.

"I agree to the engagement," she mumbled and
he swept her into a snug embrace. His touch was warm, but almost
too much, too strong, too confining.

He kissed the top of her head and she clung
to him, hoping to find comfort.

"You have made me a happy man, Chloe. We
will have a wonderful life, you’ll see."

He spun her around as if she was a rag doll
and she let him, praying his happiness contained a contagion. It
was wonderful that he was joyful. If the bride couldn't be pleased,
at least the groom should be. Of course, there would be no shortage
of celebration. Both Father and Dorothea would be ecstatic. She bit
back the bile that tickled her throat. How she loathed doing
anything that would please that vile woman.

As he set her down, uncertainty poked at her
and she knew now the bitterness of a marriage entered without love.
Still, with her acceptance, she'd saved her family from untold
humiliation. Had rescued Pembridge House and kept Father from
debtor's prison. Like many women before her, she'd walk down the
aisle and martyr herself in her marital bed.

Fredrick leaned forward and gently placed
his hands on both sides of her face. "Everything is going to be as
it should be. And when we are old and gray with our grandchildren
playing about us, you will wonder why you were ever hesitant to be
my wife. Please don't be sad."

"I'm not sad." And she wasn't, for she hoped
she'd soon wake from her dream and instead of Fredrick holding her,
Jude would be.

He chuckled and placed as soft kiss on her
forehead. "I know better, but I intend to make certain that your
sorrow is short lived."

She gazed upon this kind man's countenance
and smiled, for in the depths of his eyes she recognized his tender
determination. "I believe you will try and that is more than I can
expect from this arrangement. I thank you Baron, for your
generosity."

"Darling," he whispered, his breath warm on
her skin. "This is no longer an arrangement for me. You have
touched my heart and before long we will be the couple that
everyone envies. There will be love between us."

"I hope you’re right." But judging by the
chill in her heart, she doubted it.

Taking her hand, he led her toward the
clearing and to where Jude and his lady strolled toward them. So
deeply involved in his conversation with the golden goddess, Jude
didn't look at her until they were nearly upon them.

"Fredrick, Chloe, may I present to you Miss
Belle Lockwood." Jude's gaze slid to Chloe as his stunning fiancée
offered Fredrick her gloved hand. Every aspect of the woman
screamed wealth and refinement. Everything from the top of her
beautiful straw bonnet with soft pink silk ribbons to the tips of
her tiny leather shoes, spoke of interest in the latest fashion.
For who, but the most fashionable of ladies, wore pale pink silk to
a picnic in the middle of the wood? Only one who didn't care if the
hems were soiled and ruined, that was a certainty.

Chloe raised her chin to meet Jude's stare
but despite her attempts at strength, her lower lip trembled with
disappointment. In fact, an unpleasant chill raced across her skin,
her head uncomfortably light. Damnation. He was truly happy. She
could see it. Feel it coming off him as strongly as she could smell
the sweet scent of gardenia that wafted from his living doll. She
held on to a sapling for support and watched in misery as the
newcomer beguiled her fiancé.

Fredrick took her hand and bowed. Rising he
smiled, that devilishly boyish smile that she was certain had won
the heart's of many a silly maiden. "Miss Lockwood, so good to see
you again."

Belle tilted her head and offered a blank
stare. "I'm sorry, Von Richter, was it? I don't recall meeting you
before."

Fredrick pursed his lips. "Belgium, five
years ago," he reminded
,
but his tone was
not so pleasant now. Obviously, he wasn't used to being
forgotten.

She laughed, the sound a pleasant tinkle.
"I'm certain you're right, sir. Please forgive my poor memory. I
meet so many people in my travels and five years is a lifetime
ago."

Chloe watched the exchange, pleased that
someone besides her found the woman to be annoying. Fredrick’s
expression grew dark, his dislike palpable.

As if sensing his ire, Belle pulled her hand
from Fredrick's grip and set her cool, green-eyed gaze on Chloe.
Upon eye contact, any warmth in the porcelain complexion
evaporated. "And Chloe, I feel as though we've already met. You're
all Jude talks about when the subject of his family is
discussed."

The woman's glorious face dazzled when a
smile crossed her full, crimson lips. Chloe sucked in a deep breath
as jealousy coiled around her already roiling stomach. "He's so
lucky to have a
sister
like you." Belle wrapped her arms
around Chloe and squeezed. "Perhaps you and I will become like
sisters, too."